A quarter mile down the trail later, we came to a fork in the road. The road to our left seemed impassibly steep, with huge, jagged boulders sticking out from the dusty trail to form a series of ledges and potholes that seemed deep enough to high-center us if we didn’t do things perfectly. Straight ahead, the road seemed rather easy, albeit narrow. However, it wasn’t showing up on our maps, which made us a bit worried. 

“Is this a bypass?” I asked as we got out of the jeep and scouted our surroundings. 

“Looks like it.” Dad replied, “It ain’t on the map though, so I can’t tell.”

“I don’t see any ‘no trespassing’ signs or anything. Looks pretty clear ahead to me. Cuz there’s no way in hell we’re getting up that trail.”

“Not without a winch, that is.”

I scowled with suspicion towards the winch my dad had bought off of Amazon for less than $300. I didn’t exactly have much faith in that thing. Considering that we were completely alone with no cell service and nobody coming through on the CB, I figured it was safest to give the “bypass” a shot, or simply turn around and go back the way we came. 

“Oh, c’mon!” Dad smirked when he noticed my glare, “It’ll be fine!”

“Let’s take this bypass first and see where it leads us.” I said with my arms crossed. 

“Oh, alright.” Dad rolled his eyes, “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Shut up, Dad!” I scoffed back. 

Cautiously, we proceeded forward onto the bypass trail. It was narrow and slightly overgrown, but it was still clearly a fairly well-traveled trail that cut deeply into the mountainside. There were a few places where small trees had fallen over onto the road. But, we simply rolled over them with ease. However, when we rounded a corner a little ways into the woods, we skidded to a stop. Blocking our path was a rusted cowcatcher, still attached to a couple of equally decayed steam engine front wheels. Beyond it, the trail was completely overgrown, with ten-year-old trees sprouting from between the rotting rail planks that wound around the mountain. 

“Well then…” I shrugged, “Guess we ain’t gonna get any farther today?”

“Guess not.” Dad replied, “That’s okay though. We had fun. Now, help me back this thing outta here!”

The road was too narrow for my dad to comfortably turn around on it, so I had the role of guiding him on foot as he backed the Jeep off that little “bypass”. We didn’t go far, so it took us less than ten minutes to return to the main trail. Once there, Dad got out and began to scout the bouldery ledge once again, still thinking about giving that trail another shot. Meanwhile, I simply stood leaned up against the jeep, nodding along while my dad mapped out his plans aloud. 

In the middle of my dad’s rambling, a new sound caught my ear. I turned to face the direction from which it was coming from; the trail we’d take home if we couldn’t overcome the boulders. Dad noticed that I’d fallen silent and was staring over my left shoulder, and turned just in time to see a familiar Toyota Tacoma approaching us. 

When it stopped, two men and a dog jumped out of it. The driver, a very stout guy with a cigar in his teeth, smiled as he asked, “Y’all having trouble?”

“Not really,” I replied, “We’re just trying to figure out if we can get over that ledge.”

“I see.” the man said as he glanced over at the trail in question, “Why don’t we give ‘er a shot first, and y’all follow?”

“Works for me.” I said, “What’d you think about that idea, Dad?”

“Works for me!” he answered in the same exact way I did. 

Dad backed up the jeep just enough to let the Tacoma take the lead. Dad figured if the Tacoma could overcome that obstacle without a winch, surely we could with a winch, as cheap and sketchy as I thought it was.